


January Gloom

by ribbonista



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonista/pseuds/ribbonista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darius has something to protect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	January Gloom

**Author's Note:**

> htis isnt fuckin shipping fic u fuckin weirdos

Darius didn't like January the first. 

The wind was always howling too much, the snow, much too deep for his scarcely-covered body, but he trudged through the snow nevertheless. A small box was tucked under his arm, sheltered by his jacket as the wind nipped and bit at his pink skin, his eyes squinted in the gloom against snowflakes that fluttered against his eyelashes. 

Each step Darius took crunched loudly in the silence of the night, streetlights flickering the white snow on the ground. His eyes shifted to the dark, shadowy spaces between the buildings he moved slowly past, scowling under the thin, tattered scarf pulled across his face. The section of town Darius was in was not necessarily the best, but it was the cheapest, and closest to the orphanage, and the box he had held under his arm was of _utmost_ importance to him, a pastel pink cardboard square with a small, thin ribbon of red around it's girth.

With a huff, the young boy sped his lethargic steps, the snow chilling his pale skin to the bone, so thick it was hard for his stumpy legs to move in it, like molasses. Shadows of people flickered in his vision here and there, like worms writhing under and overturned rock. Such was how the seedy underbelly of Noxus worked- mechanical. Gloomy. Fearsome. Darius exhaled a puff of air that filtered through his scarf and created a frosted spot on the fabric in front of his lips.

Holding the pink box closer to his gawky frame, the young Darius turned sharply down an alleyway corner, slipping on a patch of ice hidden under a blanket of snow. With a hushed expletive, the boy preforms a daunting acrobatic in order not to drop his precious box, hissing as he bashed his knee into the brick ground of the alleyway. He could feel the warm trickle of blood seep into the fabric of his trousers, but gently opened the box in order to make sure the contents of his prize were unharmed- _one, two, three, four, five._ Perfect.

Darius held the box in his arms again and began to scurry off, careful, bright eyes scanning the ground and the grimy world around him for anything that could potentially harm his box. With his eyes cast over his shoulder, the man hidden in the shadows found a perfect opportunity to step out and allow the young, pale-skinned boy to run into him full force. Darius felt a hard weight drop in his stomach as the cardboard of the box crinkled in the impact.

“So... what do we have here?” The man asked. Darius did not answer. “Aw, don't be like that,” he cooed, moving closer to Darius as the young boy took two steps back for the strangers every one. “Listen. This'll go by faster if you just give me that box and whatever's in your pockets, kid. I heard coins jingling.”

Again, Darius did not answer, nor did he answer as Darius severely brutalized the man in a matter of minutes, leaving nothing but a crumpled, bloody mess in the gloom of the night, crimson soaking into snow as little snowflakes peppered Darius' red cheeked face, heaving. The pink box, as Darius found out, was crinkled, but the prize inside was still pristine. 

He was practically sprinting in the snowy evening of that January first, until he came once again upon to his home- the orphanage, looming like a behemoth against the inky sky, no windows illuminated. Of course there wouldn't be lights on, Darius thought to himself. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake.

Darius popped open the creaky window of the hallway he knew was always unlocked and gently clambered inside, making sure nothing happened to the pink cardboard box. He set it down underneath the sill and pried the window closed again, and gently began to pad past rows of doors until he found the one with a familiar number. He opened it and scanned the room until he saw the partially lit face of the person he cared for, the moon casting a ghastly glow upon Darius' little brother's skin.

Crawling over, he gently began to shake his little brother's shoulder, looking at the empty space next to Draven in the bed where he would usually find himself at this time of night, yearning for sleep. 

“Draven. _Draven._ ” Darius hissed, rousing the sleeping boy awake. The scrappy younger Blood Brother moaned and sat up on his elbow, rubbing his almond-shaped eyes, though his face changed to a sleepy, lethargic gap-toothed smile at the sight of his older brother. “Wake up.”

Darius watched as his little brother sat up fully, peering up at his sibling with wide, dark eyes and a confused gait. Rolling his eyes, Darius scoffed and took his little brothers hand, attempting to tug Draven out of bed. “Draven, come on. I have something for you.”

Slipping out of the covers, though taking a small, tattered blanket with him, he gripped onto Darius' hand and was lead out of the crowded bunk room, weaving between beds full of other sleeping children back into the frigid hallway and to the window Darius had slipped back into the orphanage from. The pink box was still crouched there, and Darius knelt next to it, tugging his younger brother closer. 

“Open it,” Darius urged in hushed tones, and Draven rubbed his eyes again. However, under the intense stare of his elder sibling, Draven grumbled and sat down on the cool tile of the hallway, dragging the box closer to him and opening the crimped cardboard.

Inside the box was a small cake, five candles shoved into the thinly-icinged top. It was plain and ugly, looking cheap and misshapen, dejected. 

“Happy birthday, Draven.” was all Darius said, carefully pulling the ugly cake out of the box and onto the floor. Digging around in his pockets, the young Noxian boy fingered over the extra coins in his pocket and took out his matchbox, lighting each candle shoved into the crispy carapace of the cake one by one. He was caught off guard, however, when Draven threw his lank arms around his brother's neck and held him tightly, eyes glinting with excitement and wonder. He nosed at Darius' cheek and laughed excitably before making a guilty face as Darius shushed him, looking back to the ajar door of their bunk room.

Draven blew out the candles in three tries, then began to pull off bits and pieces of the cake with his bare, grubby fingers, shoving them into his mouth. Darius drew his knees to his chest, crossing his arms over the top of his legs and burying his mouth into it, eyes cast to the dark tile of the hallway. 

His arm was jostled and peered over to his brother, who was holding a chunk of the cake out to him expectantly, his wide, spotty smile innocent and childish. Darius heaved a sigh, took the piece of cake from his younger sibling, and popped it in his mouth.

Darius sighed again when his brother's already wide, gap-toothed grin grew wider as he ate the hunk of cake, but he smiled to himself, hidden by his arms.

Maybe, Darius thought, January the first wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
